


This is madness.

by vampireinadeviltown



Category: Les Mis - Fandom, Les Miserables
Genre: Angst, M/M, Modern AU, Political AU, possibly wildly ooc but honey badger don't care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:10:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampireinadeviltown/pseuds/vampireinadeviltown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Les Mis Au where Enjolras is running for president and has to keep his relationship with Grantaire a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is madness.

“Come away with me,” Enjolras pleaded as he laid on his stomach, running his fingers through Grantaire’s hair.  
  
Grantaire sighed as he looked at the man beside him, “where? to the kitchen? Or if I’m good maybe the backyard?”  
  
Enjolras scowled, and whatever mood had struck him only moments before was gone. Just like that. He hadn’t deserved that and Grantaire knew as much, but Enjolras was constantly full of these outrageous ideas and fruitful promises that he never made good on. At least not for Grantaire.  
  
If you were poor, a minority, or a woman, Enjolras seemed to have all the time in the world to listen to your struggles or your dreams, but if you were his lover? You were not much more than a skeleton in the closet.  
  
“Don’t be like that,” Enjolras told him as he sat up, tugging on a red t shirt. It seemed foreign to Grantaire now to see his Apollo in anything but a suit.  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Spiteful,” he said as he slid into his boxers and then his jeans.  
  
Indignant, Grantaire sat up on his elbows, “oh, I’m sorry. Tell me Mr. President where would you like to go?”  
  
“I’m not president,” Enjolras said but he omitted the word that was so poignant and loud he might as well have said it. Yet. He wasn’t president yet. “Maybe to Paris,” he said, it almost sounded like an accidental, Freudian slip, he was so concentrated on taming the curls that Grantaire had made unruly.  
  
Grantaire pursed his lips and nodded, “right.”  
  
The golden boy sighed and looked over at him, a glowering darkness settling just behind his eyes, “well I’m sorry that I wanted to spend some time my boyfriend before I started the campaign.”  
  
“For the first time in how long? Wouldn’t you be afraid someone would see us? That your popularity would plummet, because America’s golden boy was gay and the religious, which make up over half the nation, would cower in fear?”  
  
“You are insufferable.”  
  
“I’m honest,” Grantaire retorted.  
  
“I was trying to do something nice,” Enjolras spit.  
  
“On a different fucking continent Enj,” he exclaimed, arms flying in the air as he sat on the edge of his bed. “How is that supposed to make me feel. This is bigger than not telling your parents, I am some dirty secret you are hiding from everyone.  
  
“Then why are you with me?”  
  
“Because I love you!” He said and he felt tears stinging his eyes. “I always have and if I could I’d stop, but I can’t.”  
  
“So I am your burden to bear?”  
  
“As much as I am your secret to keep.”  
  
That shut him up. For once. Enjolras’ iPhone buzzed on the bedside table and he tapped in his password with deft precision, “I have a meeting with Courfeyrac,” he mumbled.  
  
“The second most important thing in your life,” Grantaire mused.  
  
“What’s the first?”  
  
“Politics,” he replied and Enjolras made a noise that was akin to a growl before snatching his coat off the floor and stepping into this shoes.  
  
Just like that the light was gone from the room and Grantaire was stuck there reeling in the darkness created by his Apollo’s absence.  
  
It got like this sometimes, the fights, the harsh words, and this was all without Grantaire being drunk. He didn’t mean to make Enjolras angry, he was simply alerting him to the matter at hand when he thought Enjolras was forgetting. Grantaire was his friend, as talked about in the papers, and nothing more. Not that anyone else knew, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is just the first part in an I don't know how many chapter work. Let me know what you think or what you'd like to see!


End file.
